Interludes Past Midnight
by ChroniclerOfInsanity
Summary: Professor Sycamore is burning the midnight oil (again). But tonight someone intervenes to keep him from overworking himself. Lysandre/Sycamore one-shot. Fluff. Just a sweet little what-if originally written for someone very dear to me.


He was so close. He could practically taste it. If he could just kick his brain into gear...The professor gave another frustrated sigh, staring at the clock.

1:00 A.M.

Yet another sleepless night ticked away with the only couple in the room being him and his research. Inwardly, though he'd wanted him there more than anything, Augustine hoped the after party was a good one... That Lysandre's latest fashion release had gone well.

He snorted, laughter bubbling from his lips. How silly. Of course it went well. It had to have gone well! He was the most well known, intelligent, fashionable man in all of Kalos, for Arceus's sake. He was the ideal man.. The one all the women wanted and all the men wanted to be like.

And somehow, he'd managed to snag him... Sycamore still didn't quite understand that, but he was grateful all the same. A yawn escaped his lips then, followed by the kind of laughter you could only expect to have when it was late and you were far too tired to care anymore. Everything was funny when it was late.

He knew if Lysandre had been there, he'd have scolded him for burning the midnight oil again. This was his third.. or was it fourth- night in a row he'd been up late with his research. He couldn't help it. He was so close to pinpointing his findings.

It was in his hands! If he could just..

Yet another yawn escaped his lips, interrupting his thoughts with the craving for sleep. Gods he was so tired...

"You need to rest."

Yes.. he agreed. Rest. Maybe for a little while...

Wait..

There wasn't anyone in here with him.

Was there?

Sycamore jerked his head up, looking around. Nothing but shadows. Oh gods, he was starting to hear things.. he really did need to rest.. Maybe a small nap would energize him.

"Come on," the voice urged softly. "Off to bed with you."

Shaking his head to clear it, he stumbled from his office chair to the guest room in the back of the lab. Despite its humble origins, the modest cot beckoned like an old friend; warm, comfortable, inviting.

Practically sleepwalking, he made his way to it and laid down, mumbling softly to himself. Somewhere in his drowsy rantings, he vaguely registered something warm slide along his back.

"Quit worrying about your research and go to sleep, Augustine," the voice chided softly. "It will be there in the morning."

The dark-haired man let out a deep sigh and closed his eyes as slumber quickly swept him away.

The figure stood quietly in the shadows keeping watch. Once he was sure that Sycamore was well and truly asleep, he smiled. A gentle, sweet fellow such as Augustine was quite a catch. He was successful, kind... dedicated. And his. He considered himself fortunate...

A discreet buzz startled him from his thoughts. Taking out the phone, he turned to spare his lover from the strong backlighting and crept quietly from the room.

"Lysandre speaking. Yes, he's all right.. I'll be coming back soon now that he's asleep..." The smile would fade from his face. Stupid, spoiled rich people... So impatient. So irritating. It was only by virtue of their money being the reason he kept in business that he ever put up with them, but here, he let his disdain show. "Hmph. Well my new clients will have to be patient a little bit longer. I will speak with them as soon as I return. I trust you to take good care of them in my stead, Mable. I know they are in good hands."

He abruptly ended the call and quickly doused the light on the phone, slipping it into his pocket before he moved through the doorway once more. Moving to the edge of the cot, the redhead pressed a warm kiss to the sleeping man's forehead.

"Good night, Augustine. Rest well."

It wasn't until a few scant rays of light through the tiny back window graced his face that the professor finally awoke. Blinking the sleep from his eyes, he regarded the room while his thoughts arranged themselves.

Ah, the guest room. He must have been in the middle of his research aga-

Research?

"MON DIEU! MAH RESEARCH!"

He sat bolt upright about to spring from the cot when a flash of black caught his eye. He looked down to find familiar black fabric and red accents and that lovely fur trimming the collar... Lysandre's favorite dress coat... had he been here?

He fingered the fluff, bringing it close and inhaling the scent still lingering in the clothing.

Entering his office he found his notes neatly stacked- in order no less-, pens put away in the holder, and a folded note on the desktop. Gingerly taking the paper in his fingers, he unfolded it to read its contents.

_Dearest Augustine,_

_I had hoped you wouldn't be overworking yourself again. I hope you slept well. Last night went magnificently. I look forward to sharing how it went with you over coffee and sweets. Perhaps lunch. _

_Meet me at the cafe at your earliest convenience._

_With love,_

_Lysandre_

Sycamore's eyes flitted to his notes, to the paper, back again. He couldn't help but smile at the elegant script on the note. Slipping the paper into his pocket, he'd smooth out his hair a bit. Breakfast sounded good. And who better to have it with than the man he loved?

Breakthroughs could wait.

Life was all about the now.


End file.
